“...so I got so angry that I grabbed one of his glass awards from off the shelf and hit him repeatedly with it till he was flat on the floor. But I digress, what was your question again?,” an exhausted Edward asked the police officers in front of him forlornly. The two police officers had worn him down over days as the prime suspect of the murder of his boss at work, denying him sleep and nourishment. He had the motive, opportunity, and a shaky alibi.
“I asked you what your reaction was when your boss told you he was firing you,” one of the office replied, his left hand resting firmly on his gun holster with his lips pursing into a smile.
In a moment of exhaustion, Edward had lost track of his lies and blurted out the truth, condemning him to a life in prison. He repeatedly hit his head against the interrogation desk as both officers exited the room.
